


Afternoon on the Lake

by Jillypups



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Romance, another arizona au from JP, big surprise there, i want to go to a cabin now, sexy mountain man jon snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillypups/pseuds/Jillypups
Summary: This is for JonxSansafanfiction's October Challenge! Enjoy. :)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riahchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riahchan/gifts).



They’ve been coming up to Jon’s cabin in the White Mountains of Arizona one long weekend every month for over a year now, long enough that it’s starting to feel like Sansa’s cabin, too. There’s certainly plenty of her own personal style here now, small additions that made Jon smile the first time she put a few sage and lavender candles in the bathroom.

The area they’re in feels like home too, considering how often they’ve hiked the trails and jogged across flat meadows with his dog Ghost racing ahead and scaring off the deer. The only thing she’s really not gotten the hang of is fishing, but that doesn’t mean she’d ever turn him down when he suggests it, and today is no different.

“Hey, San, I was thinking maybe we could hit up Woodland Lake today. I overheard someone in Pinetop saying it got stocked with trout just a week ago.”

He’s fidgety, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at her, and Sansa feels bad because she hasn’t exactly kept it a secret, that fishing is her least favorite. He’s spent entire afternoons trailing after her in Joann Fabric with his arms full of fabric and patterns; the least she can do is sit in a darn boat and not complain about it.

“Sure!” she says brightly, and when she beams a slightly exaggerated smile at him and he breaks out into a wide grin, her smile softens and slides to genuine. 

The sky is a vivid and cloudless blue and the October breezes blow cold and brittle and bring pink to their cheeks, even through the scruff of Jon’s three day beard. The surface of the lake ripples from the wind like some psychedelic mirror, and she’s gazing dreamily at the sunlight bouncing off the water while Jon sets up their poles. 

“So, I figured before we get started, we could get started on this,” Jon says, and then there’s a loud  _pop_ that makes Sansa gasp and look at him.

He’s got a bottle of champagne in his hand and is pouring bubbly into a plastic flute, and he’s grinning when Sansa lets slip a surprised peal of laughter. 

“What is this for?” she asks, accepting the little flute when he hands it to her. She racks her brains for some small anniversary in their relationship; first kiss, first date, first night they--

Sansa giggles like an idiot.

“For the hell of it,” he says as he pours himself a glass and turns to set the bottle down behind his seat and rummage in his tackle box. “And maybe because of- oh  _shit_ ,” he says as he turns back around to face her, as a sudden sharp gust of wind blows something out of his hand and into the water with a plop.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he says. 

He drops his flute in the bottom of the boat, and before Sansa can ask why he’s freaking out, Jon stands and dives into the lake. It’s all taken place within a short span of seconds. Flabbergasted, Sansa looks around the lake, blinking in surprised confusion before she stares at the water where Jon disappeared. 

He resurfaces with a sputter and the toss of his wet hair out of his eyes, and he hauls himself up onto the side of the boat, making it lurch to the side, making Sansa shriek and grab the other edge of the boat with a slop of champagne down the front of her sweater.

“Oh my god, that’s  _freezing_ ,” she gasps as she yanks the sweater off her chest. 

“You should try taking a dip in this stuff,” Jon says between deep gulps of air. 

“Speaking of which, why on  _earth_ did you do that?” Sansa says with a laugh and because you have to drink champagne in order for it to warm you, instead of wear it, she takes a sip.

“For this,” he says with a ragged, almost defeated sigh.

He’s hanging off the boat with only his arms dangling inside, and by way of answer he lifts one arm and opens his hand to present her with a soaking wet Tiffany-blue ring box, and he smiles ruefully when Sansa sucks in a gasp of shock.

“Jon!”

“There’s no way I’d be able to afford another one,” he says, and then he chuckles. “Although the color of that box is probably the only reason I could find it down there.”

“Well thank god for small miracles, right?” she whispers. 

“Do me a favor and just put it on,” Jon says. He struggles to get back into the boat and only serves to make it lurch again, and out of desperation he thrusts the box into her lap.  “I don’t know if I’ll be as lucky next time if it goes overboard again.

She pins her flute between her knees before she opens the box with trembling fingers. “Oh, Jon, it’s  _beautiful,”_ she says as she takes out the perfectly sized ring and slides it into place, and she’s stuck somewhere between laughter and tears as she looks at him.  “Aren’t you supposed to ask me something though?” 

“I’d rather get out of this cold ass water first,” he says. “Here, hang on a second.”

He makes one more valiant effort at getting back in the boat, one more heave ho as he tries posting himself up and over the edge. Champagne goes flying and Sansa does too as the rickety boat overturns completely, but she’s got the ring and she’s got Jon, and so even though it’s absolutely frigid, she’s laughing as they swim to the lake shore. 

“All right now,” Jon says an hour later, after showers and hair dryers and two stiff hot toddies, after lighting a fire and curling up next to her on the rug. He sits up and gets up onto his knees, pulling the blanket off her lap in the process. “I think I’ve got a question to ask you.”

Sansa looks up from the ring on her finger and smiles at him. “And I’ve got an answer.” 

 


End file.
